Clair de Lune
by ForestofInk
Summary: Light lives on the edge of the woods where he has spent years watching the wolves behind his house. One gray eyed wolf- his wolf - watches back. As the bite of winter grows colder, the wolves draw nearer to his haven in the woods but they are not what they seem. Light learns to never love a wild thing. Werewolf LxLight AU.
1. The First Winter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note nor the Wolves of Mercy Fall series.

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Clair de Lune

Chapter One

The First Winter

I remember lying in the snow, growing cold, surrounded by wolves.

They were biting, snarling, and whining, worrying their way into me. They smelt of earth, burning leaves, and wet dog, a combination that both pleased and terrified me. Ice glistened off their ruffs and their opaque breaths were visible in the frigid winter afternoon. Hot, salty tongues melted into my skin as jagged teeth carelessly tore at my clothes. They snapped and growled on top of me, snagging through my hair and making frightful noises.

I could have screamed, but I didn't. I could have fought and squirmed, but I didn't either. I just lied there, watching the winter skies grow gray above me.

One wolf nuzzled his nose into my cheek, inhaling my scent, and casting a dark shadow over me. His wide eyes looked into mine while the others jerked me this way and that.

I tried to hold onto his eyes as long as I could. _Gray._ The first thing I had registered was their unique color, beautiful up close. They reminded me of an overcast storm, clouds heavy and dark with the promise of rain. The musky earth, damp with the memory of it. I like the rain.

I wanted to reach out and touch him but my hands stayed frigid and cold, curled against my body. I let out a small moan as the wolves started to become suffocating, closing in, too close. Then, he was gone and I was smothered by the wolves, their musky furs were in my mouth and nostrils.

Panic unfurled when I realized I could no longer breathe. _They were killing me._ There was no sun; no light. I was dying and I couldn't see the sky above me. The wolves were dragging their teeth across the crescent of my neck. _It's so cold._

_I could still remember his eyes. I hold on._

* * *

xXx

They snatched the boy off his backyard swing, dragging his body into the woods, creating a shallow track in the snow from his world to mine. I watched it happen. I didn't stop it.

It had been the coldest, harshest winter of my life. I wasn't fully matured; soft with puppy fat and tripping over too big paws, seeking the elders for comfort. Naïve, impulsive, and _hungry. _I was quick to fall into my animalistic instincts, to let the wolf take over.

Day after day under the indifferent sun, I began to lose my humanity. And the hunger, oh, the hunger. It was a cruel, insatiable master that constantly burned and gnawed. That month the earth was dead, nothing moved, the landscape was a barren wasteland devoid of color that held no sustenance. One of us had been shot trying to snag scraps off someone's backstep, the rest stayed in the woods and slowly starved, waiting to return to our old bodies.

Until they found him and attacked.

They hid in the snarl of brush that surrounded his home, watching and waiting, their flanks shuddered in eagerness. The boy sat in his swing, with dainty fawn-like legs tucked beneath him. My mouth watered at the thought of snapping them like twigs beneath my teeth.

I saw them tug the boy's body this way and that, wearing away snow beneath them. Muzzles smeared bloody and wanting more, easily trading his life for theirs. I still didn't stop it.

_I was hungry too._

I hung back, whining and whimpering, watching them tear into him, ankle deep in snow, fighting myself. Hunger told me to join them but my humanity lingered, it wouldn't let me. This wasn't right.

The boy smelled warm, alive. _Why didn't he move? If he was alive, why didn't he struggle?_

One of us violently jerked his head, tearing off a piece of fabric with a loud rip. I could smell the boy's blood, warm and vibrant, in this dead world. My stomach twisted-a knife diving deeper and turning- I couldn't remember the last time I've eaten. I wanted to push through the wolves and join them, to pretend I couldn't smell his humanness or hear his soft moans, to pretend that this wasn't murder.

He was so small under our wilderness. Fragile thing built upon fawn legs and tissue-paper skin.

With a snarl and show of teeth, I pushed through a wall of wolves until I towered over the boy's unmoving body. His warm brown eyes were glazed over as they watched the graying skies. _Was he dead? _I nuzzled his cheek, trying to find any signs of life. He smelled of warm sugar, butter, and detergent- a world far from mine.

His honey-brown eyes slowly rolled to meet mine. And he stared. I stared back. He looked at me as if he knew_. _As if he knew what I was_._ In his warm orbs, there was so much brutal honesty.

I recoiled, trembling and seizing. _Changing._

His eyes were on my eyes. His blood was on my face.

His life.

My life.

The pack fell back from me, wary. They growled, rejecting me, I was no longer one of them. With a snap at my direction, they turned back to their prey. He was so beautiful, fragile, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow. He looked even more peaceful with his eyes closed, no longer struggling amongst the fray. _They were going to destroy him. _

I saw him and I felt something like I've never felt before. The wolves were finally going in for the kill.

_And I stopped it._

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xXx

I would see him again after that. Always lingering at the edge of the woods in our backyard, his eyes remained steady on me as I would change the birdfeeder or take out the garbage but he never came close. To my parent's horror I would still sit on my swing. I waited for him he didn't wait for me.

He was an unpredictable creature who never ran on a schedule. Sometimes I wouldn't see him for weeks. But I knew he would always return. So I waited.

As I became older, I outgrew the safety of my backyard and became more daring. I would gather raw meat scraps and cautiously approach him, meat in hand, palm facing up, eyes lowered. No threat as I attempted to speak his language. Curiously, he would watch but if I got too close he would always melt into the undergrowth and disappear.

_Patience_, I would remind myself. _Patience._

I was never afraid of him. As the years passed, I grew and so did he until he was more than large enough to knock me off my swing and strong enough to drag me into the woods all by himself. But the ferocity of his body wasn't in his eyes.

Wolves roamed the woods of my Minnesota backyard but he wasn't like them. No, he was different.

Built on long leggy lines, he towered over any regular wolf by a few feet. He was a creature of elegance with a long, thin snout, a slender face, and a lithe, ebony frame. He was beautiful.

I remembered his gaze with storm-cloud eyes that held so much intelligence, and I couldn't bring myself to fear him. He would never hurt me.

And I wanted him to know I wouldn't hurt him.

I waited. And waited.

And he waited too, but I wasn't sure for what. This pattern went unbroken for six years: the wolves' haunting presence in the woods and their even more haunting disappearances. I didn't really think much about their oddness. I thought they were wolves.

Only wolves.

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xXx

L Lawliet flipped through a worn, dogged-ear book as he managed the cash register at 'The Woodsy Nook' bookstore. Warm, summer sunlight streamed in and bleached the books on the shelves. The smell of aging, unread words permeated the air as L sipped his over-sweetened iced tea and enjoyed his reading.

This is what he loved about being human.

The 'ding' of the store's door bell startled him and brought his dulled senses alive. A group of teenage boys entered the once peaceful bookstore. L decided they are too rowdy to need his help so he turned back to his novel and nonchalantly sipped his tea. He doesn't give them much thought except that they could be quieter.

But then, through the cacophony of laughter and inappropriate boyish jokes, he heard a familiar voice. A melodic tenor, warm and articulate, rose above the noise.

"Guys, can you be a little quieter. This is a bookstore after all." A young auburn haired teen said with a hint of frustration his voice.

L recognized the voice immediately. It had to be him.

From where he sat, crouched behind the cashier's counter, L tilted his head up slightly, and risked a peek at the boys.

_It was him._

L heart beats violently against his chest. The others continued talk but in a more hushed tone, now they're gesturing towards a paper crane L had made and hung above the children's section. The brunette detached from the group as he scanned over the covers of books, looking for an escape.

He had imagined meeting him before but not like this. He had planned out so many different scenarios in his head, but now that he is finally in front of him, L couldn't find for the life of him what to do. L briefly contemplated whether he should dart out of the room but no, this was his chance.

The raven steeled himself for whatever may come next as he watched the brunette skim through a book he had picked up. From the look of it, it what an intelligent text filled the complex wording and theories, a book not many would have picked up. This piqued L's interest.

The boy was buried in his book as he walked about the store; he gets closer and closer to the counter. L wanted nothing more than to hide. Now, that the boy's in front of him, he seemed so breathtakingly close. _Wow, is he beautiful._ His warm scent is all L could breathe.

L heard his heart thud and felt adrenaline kick in. He was right in front of him. Just one more step and they'll be only little more than a foot apart. Slowly, Light closed his book and raised his head but his friends caught his attention.

"Hey, Light! Over here, isn't this the book you wanted?" One of the boys called, waving a clearance stickered novel in his hand.

Light smiled and walked over, they begun talk once more but this time Light made an attempt to seem interested. L sucked in a slow breath as he watched Light examine books with the group of boys. His body language, the tilt of his shoulders, the small smile on his lips, indicated only polite interest. Through the store's blinds, sunlight rays highlighted his silken locks, creating a halo of light around him like a crown.

"Hey."

L jumped and brought his attention to the boy in front of him. _Not Light._

The boy had a face filled with acne and smelt of sweat. L wanted to recoil but offers a poor 'how can I help you' smile.

"How much for this?" The acne-faced teen asked as he slid a book to L's side of the counter.

L scanned the price and announced the total with a monotone voice, "19.50."

"Jeez, that price for a paperback?"

L said nothing when the boy pulled out his wallet to pay. Cash in hand, he turned to face his group.

"Hey guys, come on we got to go already! I need to be home early!"

Like obedient dogs, they headed toward the counter and placed their books on it for L to ring up. Light stayed in the law section of the store, reading the book's spines with a pondering expression.

As L rung up the items, he didn't take his gaze off the brunette. '_Look at me. Just look at me, I'm here.'_

Acne boy opened the door with a ding and made an impatient sound at the herd. One of the boys, with short, choppy blonde hair looked at L with a wary stare as he continued to watch Light browse through the books. L knew he wasn't hiding his staring but couldn't stop nor did he really care.

The blonde haired boy frowned before exiting the store. One of them said, "Light, come on. We have to go."

L felt his heart beat even more painfully as Light started towards the door. _'Please, just turn this way. Just look at me.'_

He waited.

Light, the only person in the world L ever wanted to talk to, traced an elegant finger across a book's spine before turning to leave, without ever looking back.

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xXx

Light Yagami never thought much about his incident with the wolves until Sam Gulley was killed.

He found out when he arrived home after school. He had entered the door, hung up his coat, and removed his boots, to find his family gathered around the television, grim-faced and tense. The television's screen displayed the local news and an insincerely sincere reporter. A map of their county appeared next a blurry photo of a wolf on the upper left corner.

"What's wrong?" He asked, warily walking over to his family.

They didn't answer, too engrossed to even realize the teen had uttered a word.

"_The body was found just beyond the neighborhood of Boundary Wood. The condition he was found in indicated a wolf attack. An autopsy is currently-"_

'_Oh, so that's it_,' Light mentally sighed as he began to leave the sobriety of the living room.

"It was close to here. Where they found him." Light's mother turned to him with a haunted expression. Light knew what she was currently thinking: _six years ago, a little boy named Light Yagami was playing on his swing till he was dragged into the woods by wolves; a little angel bloodied and close to death._

His parents never really moved on from the incident. His father tried to forget by busying himself with case work, his mother developed a minor case of OCD, keeping the house sterile, and painting in her art studio when she had free time.

"I can't believe it," his mother went on, "Just on the other side of Boundary Wood that's…that's where he was killed."

"Or died," Light said, a feeble attempt at defending the wolves.

His mother frowned at him, slightly frazzled." What?"

"He could've just passed out by the side of the road and been dragged into the woods while he was unconscious."

His mother's attention went back to the screen, along with the rest of the family. She shook her head. "They _attacked_ him, Light."

Light glanced out the window at the woods; it was early September in Minnesota. The leaves were like a fiery abstract as the world turned over, beauty before death to be reborn again. He thought about the wolves. Light probably knew them better than his own family. After so many years watching them, he had learned all their faces and their personalities. There were a few that could have done this.

Amongst the pack, was a scrawny, sickly-looking wolf, with a scraggly coat and one foul, running eye. His whole body shouted of illness and the rolling whites of his wild eyes whispered of a diseased mind. Light could have imagined him attacking again.

And then there was the white she-wolf. She way up in the pack, and held a savage, restless beauty about her. Images of her pearlescent coat, intertwining with the others' earth-toned colors ran through Light's mind. He could imagine her too, attacking a human. But the others? They were just beautiful ghosts in the woods.

They couldn't have done this.

Light's attack was an isolated incident. It was a record cold winter, the deer population was at an all-time low, and Light was an easy target. They attacked not out of aggression but of hunger and the need to survive. They didn't even carry out their attack, leaving Light bloodied and injured, but alive.

Despite everything, Light grew to love them.

Their life became his as he recorded them through photographs and sketches. His room was littered with their images. For his tenth birthday, he asked his mother for a case of graphite pencils and a sketchbook for the sole purpose of drawing the wolves. The pages quickly ran out and the pencils turned to mere stubs in no time, the fruit of their work hung on his walls to be replaced with photographs and better versions of themselves.

There were times Light felt like watching them was not enough.

Sometimes, Light dreamt of walking into a golden wood where it never snowed to become a wolf and run with the pack, to run with _his _wolf. His wolf, with a coat of infinite ebony and eyes like thunderstorms. The golden woods didn't exist but the pack and his wolf did, and that was enough.

"Light, do you mind cooking dinner tonight?" His mother interrupted his thoughts of running with wolves and imaginary places. Her face was apologetic, yet hopeful.

"It's no problem," Light replied like the good son he was.

His mother smiled, relieved, and got up to give him a peck on the cheek before rushing off to her art studio. "Thank you!" She exclaimed as she ran up the stairs like an overly excited child.

The teenager watched her disappear with a smile. If she wasn't happy right now she would have been miserable, haunted by memories of six years ago. Cooking dinner was the least Light could do.

With a grunt Light's father, Soichiro, rose from his over-stuffed recliner and shut off the television.

"Thank you," he said, hand on Light's shoulder, words unsaid in his eyes, before turning to leave to his study.

"No problem," Light murmured. He found himself alone in the living room, abandoned. He let out a long sigh before getting to work.

He walked over to the kitchen's fridge and pulled out ingredients for dinner. He slapped a slab of beef onto a cutting board and began to slice it while he let his mind run astray. His wolf was the first thing to come to mind.

For a moment, he once again contemplated the possibility that he was responsible for the death of Sam Gulley. The thought was quickly snubbed out of Light's head. No, his wolf wasn't a man killer. He would never hurt anyone.

After chopping up all the ingredients and placing the stew to simmer on the stove, Light rushed to grab his coat from the hooks on the wall, scraps of meat in his hand. He pulled open the sliding door to the deck, cool air bit his cheeks and the tips of his ears, a reminder that winter was coming. From the deck, he surveyed the woods in search of his wolf.

Light found him, watching from behind the swing set, slightly hidden behind the trees, nostrils sniffing toward the meat in his hand. The piece of beef felt cold and slick in Light's hand as he cautiously walked over to him, crunching out the brittle leaves beneath his feet.

Above him, the skies were a violent pink with purple and bleeding slashes of orange. The world outside him was a stark contrast to the comfort of his home. It was an untamed land where creatures fought to survive and did not possess the luxuries he had.

As Light neared his wolf, he caught sight of something that made him stop dead in his tracks and his heart jolt. The wolf's chin was crusted with blood. Some of it was splattered across his paws and chest.

His nostrils still moved, smelling the meat in the boy's hand. Light wasn't sure if the smell of food lured him out of the woods or the familiarity of his presence. He walked a few steps more-closer than he had ever been.

Light was near enough to reach out and touch his ebony fur. Or brush the stain of red on his snout.

The boy wanted so badly for the blood to belong to some deer or be his, a scratch earned by a scuffle, and not from Sam.

"Did you kill him?" Light whispered.

The wolf didn't disappear at the sound of his voice, as expected. Instead, he stood still with gray eyes carefully watching Light's face.

"It's all over the news," the brunette continued as if the wolf understood, "Everyone's talking about it. They say wolves did it. _Did you do it_?"

The wolf stared at him for a minute longer with wide, unblinking eyes before he closed them. After six years of an unblinking gaze, they were finally closed in an almost human grief; brilliant eyes closed, head ducked, and tailed lowered.

It made Light's heart ache.

Slowly, the boy moved, approaching the wolf. He didn't stir except for the flinch of his long ears, acknowledgment of Light's presence. His beautiful eyes were still closed. Silently, Light dropped the meat at the wolf's great paws. He was close enough to smell his wildness and feel his warmth.

Then, Light did what he had always wanted to do-he put his hand onto his dense, ebony ruff, and when he didn't move, buried his fingers beneath it to feel the downy fluff underneath. With a muffled groan, the wolf placed his head against the boy's hand, eyes still closed. It went everything against his instincts. He should have run way before the boy got close.

Light couldn't believe what was happening. After so many years of watching his wolf come and go, after all the attempts to get close. _He was finally here_. Light held him as if he was a friendly, family dog but his sharp, wild scent didn't let forget what he really was.

And for a moment, Light forgot where he was. _Who he was. _Nothing mattered as they were caught in their own little infinity.

But it did not last.

Some movement behind the trees caught Light's eyes. Hidden behind the snarl of bush and trees, the white she-wolf watched them. Silent and graceful, a lurking predator, full of fangs and full of malice. He felt a rumble beneath his palm as he realized his wolf was growling at her. Instead of falling back to the woods like any other wolf would have done, she haughtily moved closer. The ebony wolf twisted in Light's arms to snap at her, causing the boy to jump backwards in surprise.

She never growled back and somehow that made Light feel even more uneasy. Her dark eyes bore into Light's – wanting and claiming.

The ebony wolf continued a low rumble, urging her to leave, while he nuzzled Light back to the safety of his home. Light let the wolf push him back-all the way back to his door-feeling an electric, tangible danger in the air. His heart was beating like a bird's flapping wings, leaden dread coiled in his belly.

The she wolf's gaze never left Light as she watched from the edge of the woods as his wolf continued to guide him up the steps of his deck. Light's hand found the handle and he pulled it open to step inside. As soon as Light stood in the safety of his home, the she-wolf darted forward and snatched the piece of meat he left outside.

Her feral gaze met Light's again from behind the other side of the glass door. She held it for what seemed to be an eternity before slipping back into the woods like a spirit.

Light's wolf hesitated at the fringe of woods. His gray eyes looking at the human with a certain longing, and after a while, he too slipped seamlessly into the trees.

Light placed his hand against the chilled glass.

The distance between them never felt so great.

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xXx

I could still smell him on my fur._ Oh, so sweet and intoxicating. _I'm drowning in it. It makes my blood sing and my heart leap.

My instincts screamed of danger, reminding me of that winter of six years ago.

I tried to stay away, diluting myself to a longer distance, a feeble attempt at preventing his overdose. But I always found my way back to him. He was my summer in winter, warmness in a dead world. _My Light._

I couldn't stay away.

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**A/N: Please comment, favorite, follow, review! I'll love you forever!**


	2. Storm Eyes

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Death Note or the Wolves of Mercy Falls Series.**

**This fic is heavily inspired by the Wolves of Mercy Falls Series.**

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Clair de Lune

Chapter Two

Storm Eyes

Sam Gulley became the most popular kid at school the day after he died.

He had always been quite popular, best known for driving the most expensive car in the whole town of Lakewood Falls and not known to be the nicest person. Actually, he was a jerk. But when he was killed- instant sainthood- especially with a death as bloody and gruesome as his. The school was in a state of mild grief and buzzing with indiscreetly hushed gossip. By third period, I had heard thousands of versions of his story. All of them, most likely untrue.

But one thing was for certain: Everyone was terrified of the wolves now.

I, however, floated through classes; all I could think about was the feel of my wolf's fur under my hand and the cold eyes of the she-wolf. When I finally reached the last class of the day- Law Studies - I sat down and stared out the classroom's window, desperately wanting this day to be over. The day had gone by in a molasses pace, filled with drama and mindless gossip- even more so than usual.

I snapped to attention when our teacher, Mrs. Gray, led a policeman into the classroom and in front of our Law Studies class. I recognized him immediately as Touta Matsuda, who worked with my father in the police force. I pitied the poor man, left alone at the front of a class of rowdy high school students. His awkward smile and fidgeting stance clearly indicated unease.

"Hi," Matsuda started. He gripped the sides of his gun belt which bristled with holsters, pepper spray, and assorted weaponry. Beneath his uniform and assortment of weapons, he looked young, probably enough so to fit into the classroom full of teenagers. He glanced toward Mrs. Gray who hovered unhelpfully by the door of the classroom. He kept shifting his weight like a boxer ready to fight.

"I'm Detective Matsuda. Your teacher, Mrs. Gray, wanted me to talk to you guys."

His eyes scanned the room until he found me. He shot a smile towards my direction to which I politely returned. Mastuda was a good guy, though naive and a bit of an idiot at times. Despite his klutziness, he sometimes managed to find breakthrough evidence on cases.

Matsuda turned away to continue.

"I became a detective right after high school. It's a job I've always wanted and one I take very seriously. It's an excellent career path. Are- uh- any of you considering going into law enforcement?"

The_, uh,_ killed him. If it wasn't for that tiny stumble, the class might have behaved.

A hand whipped up, Sarah, one of Lakewood Falls High School 's most dullest people I know. "Is it true that Sam Gulley's body was stolen from the morgue?" She batted her wide eyes, dotted with mascara.

Matsuda mouth made a perfect 'o' for a moment while he thought of a response to say, caught aback by the abruptness of the question. Sam's family was a wealthy and prominent part of Lakewood Falls. Everyone was just dying to hear the latest secrets and scandals that slipped behind those mansion walls.

"I'm not really authorized to talk about the details of an ongoing investigation," he answered but the apologetic and unassertive look in his eyes just encouraged the class to keep pressing questions.

"So there's an investigation going on?" a voice from the front of the class asked.

Sarah was quick to follow back. "So it's true someone stole his body? Why would someone steal a body?"

The class chimed in with theories.

"It's probably a cover-up for a suicide!"

"I heard he was using drugs!"

"Medical experimentation!"

Matsuda sent a helpless look my way as he visibly cowered, looking utterly aghast. He then shot a pleading look to Mrs. Gray who was still observing the rising chaos from the door with an annoyed expression. She sighed before yelling "Quiet down!"

And the class did.

Mrs. Gray turned back to Matsuda, "So was his body stolen?" she asked.

Matsuda again said he wasn't allowed to disclose any information regarding an ongoing case but this time he sounded less confident and more helpless as if there was a question mark at the end of his sentence.

"Detective Matsuda", Mrs. Gray continued," Sam was a great part of the community. A good friend to us all. We just want to know what happened to him."

Bullshit.

A complete lie. Death did wonders to a reputation. It seemed like everyone forgot how Sam would lose his temper in the middle of class or fuck every girl at school. But hey, Lakewood Falls was a small town even the slightest hint something interesting was going on stirred up gossip and rumors.

When Matsuda still looked reluctant to say anything, she then added, "We're mourning," gesturing toward the class," This isn't about an investigation but what happened to someone who was so dear to us."

Matsuda wearily sighed, finally looking like he was going to give in. And he did. "It's true." There was a collective gasp from the class. "But I can't say anything else. I ask for everyone to respect the privacy and confidentiality of the family and investigation."

Why would his body be stolen? What for? Sam was nothing special, just a regular high school boy who would probably do nothing with his life. Unless, there was something beyond a wolf attack. Perhaps, there was no wolf attack after all- a cover-up. But for what?

I'll have to hack into my father's police files after school. But something tells even the police don't have much of a clue of what's going on either. Despite the influence of Sam's father, there must have been something on the news if anything significant happened during the investigation.

Matsuda looked like he was finally regaining his confidence as he straightened his posture and loosened the tight grasp on his gun belt.

Sarah waved her hand again. "Do you think the wolves are dangerous? My mom says they attack people all the time and you get a lot of calls and complaints about them."

"Uh, well, I - and the rest of the police department- don't think the wolves are dangerous. This was a very rare and isolated incident."

"But he was attacked too."

Oh, fucking lovely. Sarah was pointing at me and the whole class had turned to stare. I bit the inside of my lip and tried not to look annoyed. I wasn't bothered by the stares- it was something I was used to being the most popular kid at school. What truly bothered me was the thought everyone remembered what had happened and that the same thing could happen to them. My incident made them afraid. And I wondered how many more attacks it will take until they finally decide to go after the wolves.

To go after my wolves.

Secretly, I felt angry at Sam for dying. I couldn't forgive him. His death caused a whole mess of things and above all, was putting my wolves in danger. I wasn't supposed to be feeling this. I was supposed to feel horrid about what happened and be mourning like the others. I was supposed to share their fear of the wolves especially considering I barely escaped an attack myself.

"It was a long time ago," I put on a faux smile and told the class. Matsuda seemed relived I was taking this so well, he probably thought the incident traumatized me. I then added, "It was years ago. And it was probably feral dogs any way."

I was lying. So, what's new?

"Exactly," Matsuda said, stance finally confident. "There's no sense in making animals into villains, especially in a case were the details are unclear to what exactly happened, it just causes panic and brings more incidents."

My thoughts exactly. I couldn't help but like Matsuda a bit more as he finally steered the conversation into a different direction.

The students seemed reluctant to move on from the topic of the wolf attack, but eventually transitioned out of it. Class ran smoothly for the rest of the period. Matsuda lectured about the perks of being a small-town detective, students participated when necessary, and for a moment, the wolves were forgotten. But dread steeled itself into me, telling me this wasn't the end of it.

* * *

x Light x

It had been a week since I had run my fingers through my wolf's coat, the last time I saw him.

I stood in the kitchen, dying sunlight gently streaming in through the window above the sink, as I heated up leftover soup for dinner. His absence haunted me even if I knew it shouldn't, but it still did. It was sad how much I needed his presence. How I needed my silent phantom in my backyard. But it was an incurable need.

I went to my back glass door which led out to the deck and opened it, wanting to smell the woods. Outside, it was almost sunset. Everything was bathed in a swathe of golden light. I leaned against the molding wooden railings of the deck, still moist from rain, inhaling the woods' scent. The bite in the breeze promised of an oncoming winter, but the day was still warm with the memory of summer. The peace didn't last for long.

An earth-shattering scream disrupted the sky.

From the distance beyond the sun-dipped trees, the scream came again. For a second, I thought it belonged to an animal but then the cry formed itself to words, unmistakably human: "Help! Help! Someone help me!"

My heart skipped a beat and I felt a familiar dread sink in, it sounded like Sam Gulley.

It couldn't be. I must have imagined it, remembering his booming voice rise above the school cafeteria's cacophony as he catcalled girls passing by. It couldn't be him.

Still, my legs moved on their own accord towards the scream. Leaves and twigs crunched and snapped underneath my shoes as I moved impulsively across my yard and into the woods, their crashing sound drowned out the other sounds. I stopped, hesitated, and strained my ears for the sound again. I stood for a long moment, listening to any indication of where the sound was coming from.

There was nothing but silence.

In that silence, the smell of crushed pine needles and wet earth reminded me of my wolf. I didn't care how idiotic it was, I was this far into the woods. Going a little farther in hopes I would see my wolf couldn't hurt. Farther and farther, my strides took me deeper into the woods.

All around me, the Earth was dying beautifully. Leaves fell red and orange; crows cawed overhead with gravel voices; the smell of earth generously filled my lungs.

I kept walking farther into the snarl of wilderness. Its beauty was enchanting and captivating. I kept going until I was the farthest I was in six years, when I woke up surrounded by wolves. But I didn't feel afraid.

I stepped carefully, over the snaking branches and brush. The woods felt so familiar and safe. I glided across the forest floor with ease, confident and assured, following the shallow, trodden paths used by wolves over and over again. My senses sharpened and became efficient, the fall breeze carried information like maps, telling me which animals had been here. My ears picked up the slightest rustles, a bird fidgeting in its nest, the timid steps of a deer yards away.

I felt like I was home.

The unfamiliar cry rang out once again, piercing the forest's natural silence. I stopped and listened. The cries and whimpers came again, louder.

Rounding a nook of clustered trees, I stumbled upon the source: three wolves. It was the white she-wolf and a high-ranked male; the sight of the she-wolf made my stomach painfully twist. The two wolves had pinned a smaller male beneath them, snarling over him in a display of dominance. The pinned male had a scraggly gray coat which was covered with ugly, running wounds. The smell of blood pierced the air with sour, coppery notes.

They all froze when they saw me. The pinned male twisted his head to face me, eyes entreating. I knew those eyes. I had seen them at school; displayed on my television screen.

"Sam?" I whispered.

He continued to stare at me with hazel eyes. Did wolves have hazel eyes? They looked…wrong. Like they didn't belong. As I stared deep into the wolf's orbs, one word kept singing in my head:

_human, human, human._

The large male sent a warning snarl in my direction; his golden-gray coat bristled. He snapped at the pinned male, letting him up and sending him off. The she-wolf's eyes remained on me the whole time. They were dark-almost black- and spoke of something I did not understand.

Memories from six years ago bombarded my thoughts - images of graying skies overhead and snow splattered with blood. _My blood._ I had moved on from the incident, refusing to be hindered by it, to live in cowering fear. But there were times the memory of fear came back to me. I had felt so helpless and afraid. _I loathed that feeling. _And I didn't want to feel it ever again.

Dizziness and panic overwrought my sense but by the time I remembered of the pocketknife in my pant pocket, the three wolves were nothing but smudges in the trees. A long sigh of relief escaped my lungs.

No longer under the scrutiny of the wolves' suffocating gaze, I had wondered if I imagined Sam's likeness in the wolf. I never really paid attention to him at school before. I must have been misremembering the color of his eyes on that wolf. What was I thinking? That he turned into a wolf?

Yes, that was exactly what I was thinking.

I let out a long, weary sigh. I couldn't believe what I was thinking, I, Light Yagami, prodigy and best student in probably the whole United States just imagined a boy became a wolf. I was never one to believe in fairy tales or myths, they always annoyed me with their grandiose fantasies and pure fiction. Facts, statistics, and logic were what I heavily relied on. Yet, I could still imagine Sam in that wolf. I think I'm going insane.

But those eyes, I clearly remembered them. The voice, I heard it. The voice belonged to Sam. I couldn't have imagined the human screams and pained cries.

My head spun, thoughts running rampant through my head in a feeble attempt to find any logic in this. My throat tightened and my heart beats like an unrelenting drum. Dread creeps in on little cat feet, whispering of things I have yet to understand.

_There's a secret in these woods._

That night, I lay in bed and stared out my window. A full moon was cradled by the obsidian sky. Fiery stars danced and twinkled with white light. Moonlight embroidered my sheets casting them a silvery glow.

Outside, deep in the woods a long, keening wail and then another, pervades the night as the wolves began to howl. More voices pitch in; some are low and mournful; other high and short; an eerie and beautiful symphony. I recognized my wolf's voice; deep and silken. It sang out above the other as if begging me to hear it.

I didn't sleep until every wolf had fallen silent.

* * *

x Light x

"Do you think we could go out tonight? Like watch a movie or something." Mihael asked as he slammed his locker closed, arm filled with books. His silken, golden hair was pulled in a messy ponytail and a beaded rosary hung loosely around his neck. He wore long leather boots, on Mihael, the look sort of worked. He always had the strangest taste in fashion.

Mihael Keehl was louder than a choir boy on Sunday morning, screeching out gospel hymns. And would swear like a sailor as he tore through Lakewood Falls like the devil himself. The boy's full of contradictions. He was the type of person who would get on his knees-rosary in hand- and pray and _actually mean it_. But after saying his prayers, he would just go out once more to spit, curse, and set this town on fire- to let the remains smolder. The boy's a holy horror.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I have some studying to do," I answered politely, not to keen on the idea of watching a movie.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Yagami. I know don't need to do a lick of studying and still get a perfect score on your test." One of the things I liked about Mihael was that he was always so brutally honest, never dancing around words.

"It's always good to review," I said, because unlike Mihael, I'm not honest. Mihael's icy blue eyes locked with mine, trying to find the lies in my eyes. But he's not going to find anything, for I have perfected the art of lying a long time ago.

"Whatever," he grumbled and after a moment, opened his mouth to speak again. "So, what did you think about the incident with the wolves?" He was hesitant when he asked, remembering my experience with wolves. I just loathed how everyone treated me like fine china because of the attack, dancing around me with hushed tones.

"I don't think Sam is dead," there, I said it bluntly.

"_What?"_

"Yesterday, I heard screams coming from the woods behind my house. They sounded like him…like Sam. So, I followed them until I found were they originated from. I didn't find him; instead I found three wolves there. They were right in front of me but didn't do anything but… stare, then they left, just like that."

"Holy fucking shit, Light! You could have been killed!"

"Wolves are harmless and what happened was just an example of that."

"Harmless?! Light you were almost killed by them and just yesterday Sam was killed! They're dangerous and attack people!"

"Quiet down, you're making a scene," I hissed, we started accumulating stares from hallway passerby's. This wasn't good. The fear of the wolves was spreading like a plague. It won't be long before they would send hunting parties after them.

"Do you think I fucking care?" Mihael sighed when I didn't answer. "Which wolves were they?"

I allowed a small smile, Mihael had memorized all their wolves and personalities from stories and observations I told him. He was the only person who let me talk freely of them and I thanked him for that.

"The white she-wolf and the gray-blonde male… and a new one."

"A new one?"

I debated whether or not to tell him that the new wolf resembled Sam. Mihael was the only one interested in the wolves in our circle of friends, I didn't know who else to tell. Even inside my head, the words sounded crazy. But ever since yesterday, I have been haunted by thoughts that, perhaps, there was something more than wolves lurking in the woods.

The words felt heavy on my tongue, threatening to tumble out. I swallowed them down like a bitter pill.

"Yeah, I've never seen him before," I said.

"Oh…cool," he was beginning to lose interest, his eyes began to wonder to the school's exit," maybe when can go take pictures of him some other time. I've got a lot of homework to do. See 'ya."

Mihael turned to leave without another word and I was left alone in a hallway swarming with students on their way home. Behind me, I could hear the clacking of heels. The scent of expensive perfume –smelling sweet and sticky- hit me before I turned around to face Misa Amane.

She was clothed in articles of black. She wore a frilly black dress, black heels, and black ribbons. Her usual childness was replaced with a solemn air. Misa was Sam Gulley's half-sister. She was the product of her father's business trip to Japan to which he brought back a pregnant girlfriend and divorce papers. It was strange to see her so serious, she looked like a dainty porcelain doll with her dull, blue eyes and goth Lolita outfit.

"Hello, Light," her voice was small and weary.

"Misa, I'm so sorry for what happened," I hugged her and she fell limp into my embrace. A hug seemed appropriate for this occasion. Misa and I used to date, even as her ex-boyfriend it was still required of me to show her compassion.

She pulled away from my, tears running down her pretty face, a mix of salt and mascara.

"I heard you guys talking about the wolves," she started; a hint of betrayal steeled themselves into her teary eyes. "How could you love those things- the wolves- after everything they had done to you? What they did to my brother?"

"They're not monsters-

"Yes they are! They killed my brother!" She was in hysterics, clutching her chest as big, fat tears continued to fall. I felt a twinge of anger in my heart as she villainies my wolves. Yet, I understood her reaction. She collapsed into me and I held her, gently stroking her blonde hair as I tried to soothe her.

I felt her mumble something into my shoulder. I pulled her away to ask what she said. She looked at him through watery orbs filled with despair.

"They're killing the wolves today. Right now."

She slipped out of my now-slacken grasp and glided to the school's exit. For a single moment, I stood dumbstruck, pulling her words apart and putting them back together again. And without thought, I ran.

I was breathless by the time I slide behind the wheel of my car, Misa's words playing over and over again in my head. I had never thought of my wolves as vulnerable, but once I started imagining what a small-town attorney and big-time egomaniac like Misa's father, Ryan Gulley, was capable of- fueled by pent-up anger and grief, helped along by influence- they suddenly seemed terribly fragile. As if they were made of paper instead of flesh and fangs.

I stabbed my key into the ignition. My old, battered truck (obviously not my choice of vehicle) wheezed and rattled as it tried to come to life. Streams of loud, bustling students exited the school and filed into aging, yellow school buses, knots and clusters of other teens marched along the sidewalk. I paid no attention to them, my mind filled with images of the woods behind my home. Was a hunting party going after my wolves? Right now?

I had to get home.

My car stalled, my foot uncertain on the dodgy clutch. The truck gasped to a halt, I hoped no one noticed. My car's long life was coming to an end but I could still finesse the clutch and get on the road without too much humiliation. I tried to compose myself but anxiety stirred within me.

As I drove, pushing my car as hard as I dared, my stomach twisted with nerves. The engine let out unhealthy groans as it overheated. Damn car. If only my father would take me to the dealership to find a car that actually worked, which he promised me so many times before.

The sky burned brilliantly red on the horizon, turning thin clouds into streaks of blood above the trees. On either sides of the road, were endless woods. Inside of me roiled a thunderstorm screaming of danger. I could sense a change in the autumn air and it made my hands unsteady. The breeze grew colder and bit with a snake's fangs.

Up ahead, a line of pick-up trucks parked by the side of the road. A few men leaned against the trucks, can beer in hand and clad in camouflage, seeming to be lost in conversation. _Hunters._ The word sent shivers down my spine and made my heart painfully twist. Behind the border of trees, I could see others trudging through the woods- weapons in hand. My stomach kept churning like an unrelenting sea and dread consumed me as I eased off the gas, coasting to the side of the road in an eerie quiet.

With shaky hands, I parked my car behind the pick-up trucks. I numbly climbed out the vehicle and abruptly turned at the sound of a car door close behind me. Another truck had pulled in, two hunters, wearing neon orange caps, steeped out of the vehicle and made their way to the dozens of hunters knotted on the side of the road. All of them were carrying rifles, visibly restless, and conversing among themselves with muffled voices.

As I approached them, I steeled myself. A few of them turned to me curiously when I came closer. Putting on a faux smile I approached a middle-aged hunter who looked friendly enough.

"Is this for the wolves?" I asked, successfully concealing the horror wracking my head. They shouldn't be here. I'm sure this is an unauthorized hunting party.

"It's-"

There was a loud crack from the woods behind him; both of us jerked at the sound.

"What was that?" I demanded. But I already knew. _Gunshot_. My voice was surprisingly steady. "They're hunting the wolves aren't they?"

The man sighed, knowing he had been caught joining something illegal. "Look kid, you should go home. It's dangerous out here."

There were distant shouts in the woods, more gunshots were heard. Oh God. The wolves. _My wolf._ I grabbed the hunter by the arm. "Tell them to stop! They can't shoot back there!"

"Kid-"

More shots rang out; each one was a dagger to the heart. In my head, was a clear image of my wolf outstretched in the dirt, paws positioned to run, a gaping bullet wound to his side, ebony fur stained crimson. I had to stop them. In an instant, I formulated a plan. "I have a friend in there! He was going to take pictures in the woods today. Please, you have to stop them!"

"What?" The hunter froze. "There's someone in there? Are you sure?"

"Yes," I breathed. "Please, call it off before he gets hurt! If you don't, I'll tell my father, he's the sheriff."

The hunter stared at me with wide eyes at the mention of my father's title in law enforcement. He hesitated for a second more before quickly pulling out a cell phone from his pant pocket with concerned gray brows. He dialed a number into the phone and held it to his ear and after a while he furrowed his brows and frowned. "Reception," he muttered.

I shivered, not only from the cold but from the anxiety and fear coursing through me.

The hunter just shook his head. "Sorry, kid. No reception but I'll keep trying. Don't worry, though. They'll be really careful they won't shoot a person. I'll go ahead and warn them. Just please… don't tell your father."

Another gunshot came from the woods but this time something snapped inside me. I couldn't wait. I couldn't just wait here while they slaughtered my wolves. I ran, the hunter called after me but I continued on into the woods. I had to stop them. I had to save my wolf.

But as I ran, slipping between trees and jumping over fallen limbs, all I could think was _I'm too late_.

* * *

x L x

We ran.

We were silent apparitions weaving through trees; the shouts of men and smell of gunpowder pervaded the air. Hunting hounds chased after us barking and howling somewhere in the distance.

The woods I knew, where I found safety, turned in something sinister and dangerous. Strange, sharp smells punctured the air. Beneath my running paws, the earth was unfamiliar, uncharted and untouched by us.

It was terrifying to not know where I was.

We traded simple images amongst ourselves in our wordless language: dark figures behind us, figures topped with bright warnings, carrying weapons- they smelt of death.

The pack was not running on human logic, the wolf instinct had taken over and driven us to run aimlessly. A '_crack'_ caused me to stumble, losing my pace for less than a second. I heard a whimper behind me. Without, looking back I knew who it was but I didn't stop; there was nothing to do even if I had.

Everything was bright, sharp, and terrifying.

A new scent hit my nostrils: earthly rot and stagnant water. The lake. In a brief moment of human clarity, I realized the hunter's design- to flush us out of the safety of the trees and to the barren lake's coast- so they can kill us there.

I struggled to keep a grasp on my fading humanity as the wolf part of me screamed:

_Danger! Danger! Danger!_

I scrambled amongst the pack, attempting to guide them away from the water. But they were unyielding, too consumed by a raw, animalistic fear. There was no room for reason. So I tried my best to keep them together, all the while screaming images of danger towards them, begging to be listened.

I formed a clear image in my head at the same time Watari, the pack leader did -the slow, rippling edge of the water, thin pines growing sparse in the poor soil, the lake stretching out forever in both directions.

A pack of wolves huddled at the shore. No escape.

We were hunted. We slid before them like ghosts in the woods, and fell along with the sound of gunfire, whether or not we fought.

The others kept running towards the lake. But I stopped amongst the chaos, hesitating before letting my instincts take me to safety.

* * *

x Light x

These were not the golden woods I walked in a few days earlier, painted with fiery colors and filled with life. These woods were dark with barren, decaying trees that smelt of rot. The leaves no longer crunched beneath my feet; instead they stayed limp -dead. The natural flow of the forest no longer guided me. All of its natural trails destroyed by crashing hunters in search of a kill. I was lost and disoriented in a dead, monotone wood, straining my ears for the familiar sound of marching hunters.

My lungs burned as I breathed in my opaque breaths. I coughed and sputtered as I ran; the cold was gripping my throat as my eyes become bleary. Up ahead, I spotted hunters in their neon orange caps amongst the trees, moving relentlessly in the same direction, making crashing sounds, driving the wolves before them.

"Stop!" I shouted. Their outlines became clearer as I ran towards them until I could see the engraved insignia's on their guns. A hunter suddenly turned to me, surprised. I hastily approached him, in the darkness of the woods it was hard to make out features but he seemed vaguely familiar to me, though I couldn't remember where in town I saw him. His face, older and lined, stared at me with a peculiar expression as he examined me up and down.

"What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. I was so out of breath that I struggled to articulate words. "You…have…to…stop. My… friend is in these woods. He had gone out to take pictures.

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey the dark woods. "Here?"

"Yes, now!" I snapped. "You have to tell the others to stop. It's dark out here. They won't see him."

He stared at me for another agonizing moment before nodding then reaching for a walkie-talkie from his belt. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as he clicked the button down and spoke into it.

More shots rang out like a snarling thunder, closer than ever before. Startled birds scattered out of their trees, screeching and cawing above us. The forest itself seemed to bristle at the horrendous sound. It was like a nightmare. A viciously clear nightmare. I was trembling, my heart was beating so fast, I couldn't even think straight.

I could hear the sound of everything- bullets ringing out, fluttering of bird wings, the weeping of wolves. They were howling and howling for the life they took.

It stole the breath from my lungs; _everything_.

I shut my eyes and slammed my hands over my ears-anything to not hear the wolves' crying. _Oh God, please make it stop._ Their cries erupted somewhere among dark trees, piercing the air. It was such a sad sound. Oh, I could hear their anguish as they weep over their lost ones. Tears nest in the inner corners of my eyes, it took everything I had not to let them fall.

"My God, what is that noise?" The hunter beside my breathed, he gripped the barrel of his shotgun tighter, clearly uneasy- afraid.

In a sudden swell of emotion, all I could see was red. My body quaked with a deadly combination of anger, sorrow, and loss. These bastards killed my wolves! They destroyed everything. Monsters!

"You killed them! You killed them!" I yelled, swinging a fist at him, squaring him in the jaw.

He stumbled backward, nearly tripping fallen tree branches. I charged to continue my attack but someone grabbed my wrist.

It was hunter I had met earlier. Ragged breaths escaped my lips as he slowly released his grip on me.

"Calm down, kid. Alright? It's all over now. I already told everyone. The hunt has been called off."

Before I could reply he turned to the other hunter. "I heard those shots. And I'm pretty sure everyone else in Lakewood Falls heard them too. It's one thing to being doing this"-he gestured to hunter's gun-"and flaunting it for everyone else to know."

The man then turned back to me. "You said you're the sheriff's kid. I know the sheriff has a house right over there, at the edge of the woods." He pointed at the direction of home. The house was invisible behind a black tangle of trees.

"I'll escort you over there if you like. The woods are a dangerous place, especially when it's getting dark. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"I don't need an escort," I hissed, quietly seething. The cold air was quickly dropping as it bit my cheeks and the tips of my ears. Inside me, it felt just as cold. As if my beating heart was torn right out of me, warm blood to be replaced with grief and sorrow. Behind my eyes, I could see the image of my wolf-dead- outstretched on the bloodied dirt. The sound of gunfire still rang in my ears.

Was he really dead?

The thought caused tears to once again nest in my eyes and it clutched my heart with an iron grip. I attempted my best to push the thought out of my head.

Without a word to the others, I walked home. The woods were quite except for the solitary calling of a crow. There was a stillness that felt eerily quiet. Nothing seemed to move.

At the edge of the woods, I stopped, looking at the dark windows of my home. Empty. No one was home. Father was at the police station, busy with a case and mother had taken Sayu to the mall to buy a new winter coat.

I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of earth, leaves, and wood. My muscles ached and I was just so…tired. I longed for this day to end. It had been a vicious nightmare which left me weary and ragged. And as I stood in silence, a strange sound began to make itself known.

It was the sound of fast ragged breathing.

I froze, holding my breath.

I followed the sound, climbing cautiously onto the deck, painfully aware of each stair creaking beneath my weight. Fear gripped my throat as muscles tensed in fight or flight instinct. My clammy palms clutched the rusting pocket knife in my pants.

I smelled him before I saw him, causing my heart to flutter. My wolf. The wind carried his sharp, wild scent which smelt of summer rains and burning leaves.

My breath caught painfully in my throat as I moved closer, hesitantly, to find not a wolf but a boy. He was curled tightly on his side against my glass back door, gasping, whimpering, and shivering- naked. His stormy gray eyes-so familiar- flicked open at the sound of my approach, but he didn't move. Wide eyed, we locked our gazes.

It knocked the wind right out of me.

They were like twin black holes that took everything and gave nothing back. In their darkness, were whispers of an intelligent mind, endless and infinite like the universe itself. I knew these eyes. I knew him.

My wolf.

Bright, crimson blood was smeared across his shoulders and chest- deadly war paint. His scent was replaced by it, reminding me I was wasting time. In a sudden rush, I pulled my keys from my pocket and unlocked the door, steeping over his trembling form to get inside. I saw one of his bloodied hands reach out, snatching air, as he reached for me.

"I'll be right back," I promised him as he stared at me with his wide eyes. I wasn't sure if he understood when he rested his head against the wooden deck with a pained whimper. I hurried into the kitchen, tearing open a drawer in search for dish towels. I grabbed a wad and as I did I spotted my father's car keys on the counter, hastily thrown near a pile of police work paper. He must have carpooled with Aizawa, then. I snatched the keys, shoved them into my pockets, and ran over to the living room for the throw blanket.

I ran back out to find him shaking even more violently than before, blood pooling around him, his ivory skin covered in it. Dropping to my knees, I pressed a dishcloth to the gaping bullet hole in his chest. "Hold it," I told him, as I tried to apply another dishcloth to the bleeding graze on his shoulder. But to my horror, I saw his eyes fluttering, losing consciousness. Without thinking, I wrapped him in a blanket, holding his lithe body in my arms as I hastily carried him to my father's car. His warm blood seeped into my clothes and created a trail from the deck to the front of the house.

A hand clutched my shirt, his beautiful face pressed against my chest, stormy, wide eyes locked with my own. I held on to it as long as I could, but his eyes kept fluttering in and out of consciousness, head lolling back. And as I held him in my arms, I still couldn't believe that he was really here, as if all my child-like fantasies came true.

But whatever he was, he was here now, and I wasn't about to lose him.

* * *

x L x

I wasn't a wolf. But I wasn't Lawliet either.

I was caught somewhere amongst the fray of two lives. Jumbled out of context, my consciousness possessed no logic or awareness. My thoughts did not come in words but in images, a collection of my life: a golden boy on his swing, warm light streaming from the blinds of a quaint bookstore, the howling of wolves in a frozen wood –summer to winter and then summer to winter again.

The first thing my darkened mind latched to was his scent. I was lost, to be found by him. My Light. I am consumed by his beautiful perfection and his warmness. His mouth was moving in a rapid formation of words but I didn't understand anything he said. The human language spilling from his lips was familiarly unfamiliar.

In the distance, hidden behind twilight trees, the mournful sounds of wolves could be heard. My heart longed to join them once more as I felt the change pump through my veins, yet another part of me fought to stay in this human skin.

I shuddered and gasped and sighed. My blood pooled around me, the only warmth in the cold autumn air, other than the heat radiating off the boy. Through the smell of blood and my fading mind, I heard him say:

"Hold on. Hold on"

And I did.

* * *

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**Please comment, review, fav, follow, etc!**


	3. Human

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Death Note or the Wolves of Mercy Falls Series.**

**This fic is heavily inspired by the Wolves of Mercy Falls Series.**

**'xXx' means it's no ones point of view.**

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* * *

Clair de Lune

Chapter 3

Human

The best thing about staring at a sedated person is that they don't know you're doing it.

He was a fragile looking thing. Strange, how such a beastly creature can become this paper-thin angel before me. A snarling mess of ebony fringe framed his gaunt face which had a complexion of freshly fallen virgin snow. Beneath the sterile hospital sheets, the jaggedness of his hips and slope of his ribs were made prominent. Long, dark lashes rested beneath his eyes while his plump lips remained parted.

_He was beautiful._

"Oh, sweetie, you're still here? I thought you'd left?"

I turned my attention to the stout nurse parting the green hospital curtains, our thin veil of privacy was now disturbed. Her name tag read Grace.

"I'm staying here until he wakes up," I sternly said, clutching the side of the hospital bed as if to show they would have to physically pry me off.

Grace smiled pityingly at me. "He's been heavily sedated. He won't wake until the morning."

"Then that's how long I'm waiting." I replied with air finality.

I've already waited hours in the hospital's dingy waiting room while they removed the bullets and stitched up the wounds; it was probably midnight by now. _Shit. My parents_. But then it occurred to me that they haven't bothered to call me. Perhaps they left a text, I thought as I reached for my cell phone in my pants' pockets.

I turned on the phone to reveal a text from my mother that read:

_We won't be home until around 2:00 A.M. Traffic is horrible and I have to pick up some groceries on my way home. Dad is pulling an all-nighter at the station. Sorry. :C_

_Remember to be safe. Love U. :)_

With a sigh of relief, I placed my phone back into my pocket.

"You know he's awfully lucky to be alive. The bullet narrowly missed his heart by a centimeter and he had lost a lot of blood on the way here. You saved his life." Her eyes glittered as she observed him. "Do you know why he did it?"

I frowned. "I'm sorry, what do you mean? I found him in the woods. "

"Oh, sweetie, you and I both know he wasn't in the woods."

I raised a brow, waiting for her to say something else but she didn't. With a bit of irritation, I said, "He was in the woods. A hunter accidently shot him." It wasn't a lie. Except that the hunter didn't 'accidently' shoot him.

Grace once again gave me a pitying look; the one adults give to teenagers when they think they don't understand. "Look…Light. It is Light, isn't it? Are you his friend?"

I grunted in a way that can be interpreted as either yes or no, depending on which the listener was leaning to.

Grace took it as a yes. "I know you're really close to him, but he needs help."

Realization dawned on me. I scoffed. "You think he tried to kill himself?"

She glared at me, her infiltrating smile finally wiped clean. "You think we're stupid? That we wouldn't see this?" On the other side of the bed, she took one of my wolf's thin, limp arms and turned it so his pale palm faced me. She gestured at the scars on his wrist with a raised brow.

My eyes widened at the deep, purposeful wounds that encircled his tiny wrist. I shook my head and tore my gaze off them; I couldn't bear to even look at them. "Those…are from before I knew him. He…he didn't try to kill himself. A hunter shot him."

"Sure, sweetie. Just let me know if you need anything." Grace hummed with a certain haughtiness as she closed the green curtains and left.

Face flushed, I stared at the white-knuckled grip on the hospital bed, seething.

A second after the nurse was gone, my wolf's eyes flicked open, causing me to jump, heart beating impossibly fast. I had forgotten how to even breathe as his eyes drowsily rolled to meet mine.

My voice came out quieter than I excepted when I managed to choke out, "You're supposed to be asleep."

"W…where am I?" His voice sent pleasant shivers down my spine. It was smooth as velvet and luxuriously deep. I could've sworn there was a slight purr in it. "Who are you?"

Pain stabbed my heart as I realized he might not remember his time as a wolf- that he completely forgot of my existence.

"I-I think I know you. You seem familiar," He said.

Long, spidery fingers reached out toward mine, and I automatically intertwined my fingers in his without thought. With curious wide eyes, he pulled my hand toward his nose and took a sniff, then another. A small, shy smile graced his lips. It was impossibly adorable, and I felt my face burn. "I know you. I apologize… it takes a while for my brain to come back."

He didn't release my fingers, nor did I release his. And I didn't want to. But it was difficult to concentrate when his skin was touching mine. "Come back from what?" I asked though I already knew the inevitable answer.

"Come back from _when_," he corrected. "Come back from when I was…"

He couldn't say it, the words caught somewhere in his throat to only dissolve and disappear.

"When you were a wolf," I whispered. "What made you turn human?"

"It's spring. It's warm. The warmth makes me human."

I finally pulled my hand away and closed my eyes, trying to gather what was left of my sanity. I opened my eyes and spoke, "It's not spring. It's September."

His brilliant eyes widened. "That's not good," he said, his thumb pursed between his lips. "Can I ask you a favor?"

I shuddered when he spoke. My mind was struggling to hold onto reality, still trying to find any logic in this. Theories filled up my heading, some lead to a sense of existential dread, others to nightmarish dreams. And I sat there, feeling the crashing of panic against my skull like violent ocean waves against the jagged face of a cliff.

Somewhere and somehow in my mildly panicked state, I found words and spoke them with surprising levelness.

"What's the favor?" I asked, not even realizing I had uttered a word until my wolf spoke.

"I need your assistance to escape this place before they find out what I really am."

"And that is?"

"Werewolf…lycanthrope….shape-shifter, take your pick. But honestly, I'm not too sure myself," he said as he began to sit up with a pained groan and pry at his dressings.

"Hey don't touch that! You can't just leave; you almost died for crying out loud!"

I reached forward to seize his hand before he can cause anymore damage to himself but it was too late. He peeled away the gauze to reveal new stitches dotting a short line through healing scar tissue. There was no fresh wound oozing blood, no evidence of a gunshot except for a shiny, pink scar. It took every shred of self-control not to simply gawk, wide-mouthed.

He slyly grinned, clearly amused by my reaction. "Understand the urgency to leave, now?"

"B-but that's not possible…there was so much blood."

"Correct, my wounds would not have healed so rapidly if it weren't for the stitches I received."

Dumbfounded, I reached forward to touch the pink ridge of the scar. My fingers traced the firm skin, somehow convincing me more than his words could ever have. His milky skin was smooth silk. Beneath my fingers, I felt the steady rhythm of his beating heart. I could still smell his sharp, wild scent. And in a sudden rush, the fact that the boy before me was my wolf finally settled in mind.

"Okay, I will help you out of here but they will just track you down."

"No they won't. They'll just assume I'm a derelict without insurance."

I frowned. "No, they'll think you left in order to escape counseling. They think you tried to commit suicide."

His face into furrowed into a puzzled expression.

With a sigh, I gestured to his scarred wrists.

He turned his gaze toward them, gingerly rubbing the scars with the pads of his thumbs, his face completely devoid of emotion. I suddenly felt guilty for bringing the scars up but instead of saying something like, "Its okay, I understand" or "You can talk to me about it, I won't judge," I remained silent. Because really, I couldn't possibly understand and I, myself, didn't want to talk about it either.

"I didn't do this," he murmured in a flat voice.

I sat silently, expecting him to continue but he just remained silent with a deadpanned expression. We sat in this tense silence for a few moments, until I spoke.

"We need to get out of here," I stated the obvious, reminding ourselves of the task at hand.

He hummed in agreement before lifting his arm and in one swift motion, knocking the pitcher of water on the nightstand all over my pants.

"What the fuck was that for?!" I exclaimed in indignation as cold water seeped into my clothing, causing the fabric to uncomfortably stick to my legs.

"I need clothes. Go ask a nurse for some scrubs," he said without a hint of guilt, if anything the glint in his eyes was of amusement.

I glared at him before pressing a red button above his bed to summon a nurse. To which I embarrassedly asked to bring me some scrubs as he pretended to still be asleep. When the nurse finally brought back the scrubs and left, I chucked them at his head.

He slid the scrubs beneath the thin hospital sheet, wrestling them on, then tugged the rest of the offending dressings off himself and the blood pressure cuff on his arm. As the cuff dropped to the bed, he ripped off his gown and replaced it with the scrub's top. The monitor squealed in protest, flatlining and announcing his death to the hospital staff.

Seizing my arm, he stumbled out of bed, struggling to get his feet beneath him, used to moving on four legs. I led him out of the room and into the hallway where he finally regained his bearings. But instead of releasing me, he grabbed my hand and tugged me along. We slipped before the panicked hospital staff which ran rampant through the hospital's brightly-lit corridors. All the while, I could see my wolf's mind assess the situation. The tilt of his head told me what he was listening to, and the lift of his long chin hinted at the scents he was gathering.

A soft, sweet country song was playing over the speaker system as my shoes squeaked against the shiny, tiled floor; my wolf's bare feet made no sound. The lobby was empty at this time of night; the receptionist seemed to know this because she was nowhere to be seen. I felt high on adrenaline, a certain sense of giddiness coursed my veins. In a way, I was committing an act of teenage rebellion. A frivolity I've never really thought of doing.

But here I was, smuggling a werewolf out of a hospital, way past midnight, and into my father's car which I took without permission. And in a twisted turn of events, my wolf turned out to be the most attractive person I've ever met and he was holding my hand. It seemed things were going well.

But then I felt his hesitation. His dark eyes fixed on the stretch of darkness beyond the glass door of the hospital entrance. "How cold it is out there?"

"About the same temperature when I brought you in. Probably around fifty degrees. Why- is it cold enough for you to change?"

"It's right on the edge. I can be either."

Beneath his slight monotone, I heard the pain in his voice. "Does it hurt to change?"

The expression that crossed his face- a combination of pain, sadness, and fear- was enough to answer my question.

"I want to be human right now."

I wanted him to be human too, "I'll go get the car and start the heater. Stay here."

I rushed into the parking lot and slid into my father's car, cranking up the heater. Suddenly, the scent of blood hit me. Shit. The passenger's seat was bathed in crimson. Reaching into the backseat, I found a towel and draped it over the chair. I would have to clean this up as soon as I got home.

I drove up to the hospital's entrance and my wolf scurried into the car, violently shivering when he finally sat down.

"Are you alright?"

He just sharply nodded in response, curling up into a tight ball on the passenger's seat.

"Where do you want me to take you?"

He peeked through the sloping hills of his knees and fringe of ebony hair. "I…don't know."

"Where do you normally live?"

"Watari- one of us –he takes care of the pack at his house, but no one is human right now, the house is empty. Perhaps, I should just-"

I frowned, shaking my head. "No, you're coming home with me."

His eyes widened. "You're parents-?"

"They don't have to know."

He gave me a small smile that made my heart pound and my stomach flutter. And after all this time, I realized I don't even know his name. I was just content with referring to him as 'my wolf', so used to the concept.

"Sorry but I forgot to ask…what's your name?"

"Lawliet. L Lawliet."

* * *

x Light x

"Are you asleep?" Lawliet's silken voice pierced the darkness of the room, though it was barely a whisper. But in a room which he didn't belong and my family sleeping in their nearby rooms, it was more like a shout.

I rolled in my bed toward where he lay on the wooden floor, a dark bundle curled in a nest of blankets and pillows. His presence, so strange and wonderful, still seemed unreal. Even if I wanted to sleep, I don't I think I would be able to. "No."

"I want to ask you a question."

I stifled a yawn. "Go ahead."

He shifted in the nest of blankets, crouching in a strange position with a thumb pursed between his plump lips. "You were bitten." But it wasn't a question. I could hear the interest in his voice, sense the tension in his body, even across the room. I slid deeper into my blankets, hiding from what he'd say.

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I was young."

"I was young too. But I knew what was happening." When I didn't say anything he sighed.

I stared out my window, into the void of night, lost in the memory of Lawliet as a wolf. The pack circled around me, salty tongues and snagging teeth, snarls and jerks. One wolf stood shivering in the snow, a fresh coat of white powder dusted on his ebony back as he watched me being torn apart. Lying in the snow, graying skies overhead and my life coming to an end, I held his gaze. He was beautiful; wild and dark, stormy eyes filled with a complexity I couldn't begin to fathom.

He gave off this unique scent that belonged only to himself which smelt of summer rains, burning leaves, and an autumn sweetness- rich and feral. Even now, I could still smell it on him though he was wearing scrubs and a human skin.

"I waited for you," he began once more. "I would wait for just outside your backyard every winter, so when you finally changed I could take you into the woods with me. But you never did change."

I clutched my sheets, tears nesting in the corner of my eyes like storm clouds. Remembering all those nights in which I would break out in a cold sweat, victim to a change that will never happen and so clueless to what was wrong. The unfairness of it all made me want to scream.

How many times I have wished to leave this dull life mine? To just leave everything behind. I could see me future laid out before me. And it _terrified_ me. I have known the dull ache of this hollow joke of a life for almost the entirety of my existence. Everything was planned out, there were no uncertainties, just a monotone set of events that will become my future.

_Graduate as the top student at high school, go to the college of my choice to study criminal law, join the FBI, get married, have children, retire, die._

Outside, I hear a low, keening howl, and then another. The night chorus rose, missing Lawliet's low, haunting song but beautiful nonetheless. My heart quickened, sick with abstract longing, and on the floor, I hear Lawliet give a low whimper. It was a miserable sound, caught somewhere between human and wolf.

"Do you miss them?" I whispered.

There was nothing but silence. Peering into the darkness, I saw his lithe form rise from his nest of blankets and walk over to my bedroom window. Silently, he curls up on the windowsill, long legs pressed against his chest as he hugged them. His face turned to the window, observing the darkness outside of it, listening to the howling of wolves.

And I see him. I really see him. So small in this world, lost and afraid. A boy who was neither wolf or human, a tortured creature caught in the fray of two lives and just struggling to hold on to one.

"You were bit. You were supposed to change," Lawliet muttered into his knees, more to himself than to me.

"Sometimes I wish I did," I told him.

"Sometimes I do, too."

We sat soundlessly in the dark until every wolf went silent.

* * *

xXx

Lawliet wolfed down food in the most literal sense of the word. Light watched the grotesque display from across the warm, sun lit kitchen as he cooked his morning breakfast, a mixture of disgust and awed fascination displayed on his features. The raven was defiantly a strange creature- crouched on a stool, sticky, sweet syrup dribbling down his long chin as crumbs off half-chewed pancakes tumbled off his plump lips.

"Can you try not to make such a mess?" Light asked, plate of scrambled eggs in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other, as he went to sit across Lawliet. An expression of disgust still evident on his face.

"Mhm?" Lawliet's head shot up from his stack of demolished pancakes, he was wearing winter clothing that belonged to Light's father. The heavy articles of clothing swallowed Lawliet's form as if he were a small child wearing their parent's clothes. The puffy, bright blue jacket he wore made him seem even more comical.

"Just…never mind," Light said with an exasperated sigh, taking a bite of eggs before shifting his gaze to the watch on his wrist. "_Shit_. I'm going to be late for school and I have to walk to my car."

"School?" Lawliet cocked his head with wide eyes; completely forgotten that such a place existed.

"Yeah, but I think I should just stay here for today."

"No, you're parents will become suspicious. Not only did you come home late last night, you will be missing school as well," Lawliet said as he discreetly tried to steal a piece of crispy bacon off Light's plate.

Light lightly slapped Lawliet's wrist before it had a chance to grab his bacon. "I guess you're right," he sighed, grabbing his book bag and slinging it over his shoulders. "Are you going to be alright here, by yourself?"

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Light," Lawliet said, already busying himself with the task of eating Light's leftovers.

Light looked at Lawliet with a face filled with concern. "Just call me if you need anything…anything at all." He reached into his book bag and pulled out a piece of paper and pen, then scribbled down his phone number before handing it to Lawliet. "Here's my phone number. You can use the house phone, over there," he pointed at the phone cradled in its receiver, hidden in one of the kitchen's nooks.

Lawliet nodded, shoving the paper into his pant pocket.

"Alright…I'll be going then," Light started backing toward the door, clearly at unease about leaving a werewolf by itself in his house. He wasn't even sure if it was properly housetrained or not.

With a nonchalant wave, Lawliet bid him goodbye.

And with that, Light left.

* * *

x L x

I hesitated on the back deck, looking at the frost-tipped blades of grass.

Even though I borrowed a pair of winter boots from Light's father, the early morning still bit at the skin of my bare ankles beneath the rubber. I could almost feel the nausea of the change rolling in my stomach, a feeling a maggots festering under the skin.

_Lawliet_, I told myself, willing the need for the change to subside. _I'm Lawliet._

Despite the taste of an oncoming winter in the air, the woods were beautiful this time of year, all bold primary colors: crisp leaves in startling red, yellows, and oranges under a cerulean sky. Details I've never noticed as my time as a wolf. I tilted my head, reading the scents the wind carried, searching for the shed the pack kept hidden in the woods, which contained clothes and other supplies.

I still had my heightened senses, a reminder that I could never be quite human, no matter who much I tried. Stepping lightly over fallen tree limbs and crisp leaves, I made my way to the shed. I could smell the subtle tracks of animals in the underbrush and the damp promise of warmer air in the afternoon. All around me was the warm smokiness of autumn, it's burning leaves and half-dead trees.

In the midst of it all, I inhaled an all too familiar scent. _Beyond_. He weaved among the trees, silent like death as he approached. Before me he stood, nearly on top of me. His dark coat- almost black- bristled as I approached. He seemed to have survived the hunt without a scratch. Long ears slightly back, he observed my human form and ridiculous attire with a cocked head. I could tell by the feral (well, more feral than usual) look in his crimson eyes that he was still in a primitive mindset and not fully conscience.

I held my hand out, palm up, letting what was left of my scent waft towards him. "It's me."

His muzzled curled in distaste, revealing an arsenal of long, pointed teeth. He backed away slowly, with a slight shake of his head. I guessed he noticed Light's scent layered on top of mine. I probably reeked of human. With narrowed eyes, losing the fog of his wolfish mind, he locked my gaze.

'_How are you human?_' He asked in our unspoken language. Werewolves usually trade images and emotions amongst the pack when they do not possess a completely human conscience. But when we can think clearly enough, we can trade words with each by thought.

'_During the hunt I was shot. When I regained conscience, I found myself on his deck.'_

Beyond snarled. _'You revealed yourself to a human?'_

'_It was not my intention but yes.'_

He closed his eyes in a human expression of frustration, lips still curled slightly in a snarl. I could see flecks of drying blood on his muzzle, sign of a recent kill. Beyond always knew of my fascination with Light since the winter we attacked him. He was always urging me to stay away from the boy, but I kept finding my way back to him.

Beyond wasn't angry with me, no, just jealous. He was always fond of me but I never returned his attraction. I made sure to be clear that I was not interested in such relationships but he was relentless and ignorant. Always quick to make unwanted advances.

I wasn't with the pack at the time of the attack, but I knew it was Beyond who attacked Sam Gulley. Beyond had never been quite right, too eager to kill and hungry for the taste of blood. Unlike me, he was born into this life as a wolf, meaning he had more sense of control of his actions in his wolf form. Yet, he was always the first to lose his temper and lash out, to fall into his animal psyche. But it wasn't due to lack of control…Beyond just enjoyed the animalistic thrill that came with wearing a lupine skin.

We stood silently in these September woods, regarding ourselves with some sense of twisted nostalgia. We were brothers, not by blood but by the pack that bounded us (and for Beyond some stronger emotion). I found myself remembering earlier winters, were I was child and Beyond, being older, would guide me through the coldest days. I could feel the sensation of dried leaves beneath my paws and the sharp, rich slumber-heavy scent of these autumn woods when I was a wolf.

Beyond stared into my eyes- a very human gesture, considering the ranks within our pack, I was too high up for other wolves apart from him, Watari, and Rodger to challenge me like that- and I imagined his human voice saying to me, as it had so many times before, _Don't you miss it?_

The memory of him urging me to leave my humanity overwhelmed me. _Come on, Lawli, stop acting human. Can't you see what we really are? Monsters. _The wickedness of his feral grin. _Stop fighting it. Surrender to it. This is what you are, Lawliet._

I closed my eyes, shutting out the vividness of his gaze and the memory of my wolf body, and instead thought of Light. With a scent that smelled of a world far from mine, but feeling safe. The feel of his warm embrace as he held me through the frigid autumn twilight. And in the second that I remembered Light, Beyond had vanished into the woods, as if nothing more but a memory.

With Beyond gone, I clumped hurriedly to the shed were my clothing was stashed. Years ago, Watari and I had dragged the old shed, piece by piece, from his backyard to a small clearing deep in the woods. After a few years of rain, the shed has become bloated, containing a permanent musk of wet earth and mold.

Inside was a space heater, a rusting boat battery, and several plastic bins with names written on the sides. I opened the bin marked with my name and pulled the stuffed book bag inside. The other bins were packed with supplies such as food, blankets, and spare batteries-equipment for holing up in the shack, waiting for other members to change.

However, my pack contained things to escape. Everything I kept in it was designed to efficiently get me back to humanity as quickly as possible. And because of that, Beyond couldn't forgive me.

I hurriedly pulled off the burrowed clothing I was wearing and slipped into layers of my long-sleeved shirts along with a pair of faded blue jeans. Kicking off Light's father's enormous boots, I replaced them with my own ratty sneakers. I slung my book bag over my shoulders and exited the shed.

Pale sun streamed through the half-dead trees. Through the fallen leaves, mice scuttled avoiding the foxes swaying in their hidden perches. A robin, wings outstretched in the dirt, watched the lessening canopy through black eyes, a smear of red on its breast.

There's a shift in a wind, descending with a looming darkness, whispered and promised of a cold winter. I feel change, the way the forest quiets when the mountain lion goes out for lunch. Dread sunk deep into my skin and riled the beast within. My time is running out.

And I need a plan.

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**I'm sooooooooo sorry for the terribly long wait for both my fics! I really am. But I'll try to speed up my updates. **

**Please review, comment, follow, fav, or send me a PM about how much you hate me!**

**SORRY! D:**


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